Rekindling the Flame
by Artgool
Summary: WARNING: This story is probably on of the biggest crack fan fictions you'll ever read. It is about England and China ending up at one of America's parties, and lets just say Hong Kong tried to hook them up… Maybe his antics worked a little too well. Iggychu, slight Spamano if you squint.


**HELLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOO**

**So um basically Iggy, and China get drunk and Hong Kong bothers them.**

**In case you don't know their human names...**

**Arthur Kirkland: England/Iggy**

**Yao Wang: China**

**Alfred F Jones: America**

**Leon: Hong Kong**

**Emil Steilsson: Iceland**

**Honda Kiku: Japan**

**Lukas Bondevik: Norway**

**Lovino Vargas: Romano/ South Italy**

**Ludwig Beilschmidt: German**

**Francis Bonnefoy: France**

**Antonio Fernandez Carriedo: Spain**

**Gilbert Beilschmidt: Prussia**

**Im Yong Soo: South Korea**

**Amelia: Fem!America**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to meeeeeeeee**

**Oh, and Warning: This fan fiction is on so much crack.**

**….You have been warned.~**

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**-England POV-**

Walking up to the obnoxious git's door the loud music boomed down the block. The veins in his head were visible pulsing and his thick brows were furrowed together in pure annoyance. He knocked loudly on the door, and said git opened the door.

"Iggyyyy~" He sang obnoxiously swinging the door open. "Where the hell have you been? I found some strippers on the streets." He blurted out a cheerful expression plastered across his face. That usual cocky expression that concerned the Englishman greatly.

Silent for the few passing moments that invaded the frantic atmosphere England finally responded. "Wouldn't they be prostitutes then?" he pointed out bluntly.

"No! Those are illegal!" He cut the older man off hanging his arm around his shoulder and tugging him inside the crowded home. "Now let's go!" He finished with a short fit of what seemed like nervous laughter. He shoved England through the doorway and shut the door behind him not allowing his guest to think twice about leaving.

Upon entering England was not greeted by a pleasant sight. The Albino German-Prussia- was attempting to do as the teenagers say, 'Wall Twerk.' The brit released a disgusted scoff and a sweat drop formed at his hairline as he stumbled back into the American behind him. "Wha- What the bloody hell kind of party is this?!" He stuttered pure horror swarming his eyes.

"An awesome one!" Prussia yelled pausing his attempts at being 'hip.' Then, resumed after answering the Englishman's question.

America seemed completely calm about this situation and urged England into the other room where the so-called strippers awaited him. Blood spurted from the Brit's nose as his eyes landed on Amelia. Stripping. Alfred put a glass of scotch and some singles in his hands. "Have fun, dude!" Those were the American's last words before he wandered off on his own to join the German brother who continued his attempt at the famous move of 'Twerking.' That left the brit alone with this woman before him.. stripping. He honestly didn't know how to respond except for the blood escaping from his nose and the deepening shades of red brushing at his cheeks.

He collected himself and cleared his throat before placing the glass on a coffee table in front of him. He bopped his chin down in a gentlemanly bow before speaking once more the color refusing to retreat from his face. "I-I will just take my leave now. I'm sorry." He explained quickly throwing himself around to leave, but was interrupted by the familiar Frog that he'd always end up bickering with.

"Where do you think you're going?" Francis asked an empty glass that once held liquor in his hand dancing in his fingers. He was up in the Brit's face the horrid stench of alcohol slipping from his tongue as he spoke his voice only continuing to slur. "You haven't even gotten laid yet." France pointed out a sly grin playing at his lips.

"What are you implying?" England snapped bringing a single gloved hand to his face as if to pinch the bridge of his nose. But, his fingers were just splayed over his face concealing the growing color around his facial features. A single eyebrow twitched in absolute annoyance. He despised the man greatly. He couldn't even place his hate into words. His hatred was interrupted by the Frenchman's face growing closer to his own.

"I am implying that you should have some fun." He pointed out gesturing to Amelia whom awaited the Englishman. She was leaning back into the couch almost her entire body exposed.

With a single glance England had to pinch his nose to prevent any more blood to leak out and become visible to the persuasive man that he despised. "No. I am going home." He told him throwing himself away from the frog and searching for the door to leave. But, an arm dropped down in front of him to stop him from his attempt. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" The Englishman spat shooting a deathly glare at the one who dared to stop him in his tracks. It was Francis. The one who caught up to him.

"I am stopping you from spending this night alone." He answered blankly with a loose shrug. He tilted his head over to the crowds of nations who swarmed each other. England could've sworn each and every one of them were drunk. None seemed the least bit sober to him. "Look at everyone else. They're having fun." He told him nonchalantly. That was when that devilish smirk curled across his face. "Why don't you have a drink?" He suggested retrieving his abandoned liquor from the coffee table. He held it out to the blond haired brit and winked.

Upon seeing the gesture a shiver crawled up England's spine. Did he just.. wink at him? He wanted to gag, or even just slam a fist in his face. But, then he wouldn't exactly be a gentleman. Drawing in a breath he gave in and threw the drink down quickly the beverage slipping down his throat quickly. The strong taste ran over his taste buds and he cringed up allowing the effect to pass. But, it didn't. It only grew his head slowly beginning to spin with each passing moment after he dropped it down. He raised a controlled expression to the man who persuaded him and shoved the small glass back to him. "There, are you happy now?" He huffed crossing his arms over his chest.

Before the Brit could even blink Antonio shoved another drink in his hand. He looked at the drink in his hand confused and irritated. "Drink up -hic- ! Have fun! There's a -hic- lovely lady waiting for youuuu~!" The drunk Frenchman slurred. The Spaniard nodded in agreement before wandering off calling for Lovino.

The Englishman huffed a long sigh. Amelia was up behind him before he could turn around. She wrapped her arms around him and turned him around fumes of wine coming off her. She kept him from moving away by grabbing his tie and pulling him toward the couch where they were to have sexual intercourse.

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**STOPPING HERE CAUSE I'M LAZY.**

**WILL BE WRITING ANOTHER CHAPTER.  
**

**ENJOY SO FAR~**


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